


The Old Guard Femslash Fortnight, or: an attempt at letting the Immortal Wives be happy...ish

by pearl_scribbles



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: F/F, TOGFemSlashFortnight, no clue if they'll be using the tag with or without spaces, tags will be added as I update this, tog femslash fortnight
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:47:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27152000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pearl_scribbles/pseuds/pearl_scribbles
Summary: Let's see if I'll actually complete this event within the two weeks dedicated to it, oh boy! Mostly using this as a chance to write about these wonderful wives, because otherwise I'll overthink anything I write and never end up posting it, oops.Day 1: ReunionDay 2: Mornings or ConfessionDay 3: AUsDay 4: Poem/Song as InspirationDay 5: Showing IntimacyDay 6: "They did live, and there was happiness," or Your Favorite TropeDay 7: Free Choice
Relationships: Andy | Andromache of Scythia/Quynh | Noriko
Comments: 19
Kudos: 32
Collections: The Old Guard Femslash Fortnight 2020





	1. Day 1: Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My spin on Quynh/Noriko and Andy's reunion from the comics, because Andy's movie-exclusive mortality would certainly change things about it. (Please pardon any inconsistencies between this and the comics - I didn't really get a chance to refer back to them, so details about the mission and location are probably definitely murky.)

The mission was going smoothly. Nile didn’t think much of that - it was rare for a mission run by millennia-old warriors to not go well - but then she noticed Joe’s unease. Where he was normally focused and confident on their missions, now his eyes were narrowed in suspicion, and his mouth was tilted down in a frown. “Joe? What’s wrong?” 

“Something...something’s not right,” he muttered. “This feels like South Sudan.” 

That made Nile frown. Even though she hadn’t been there, she knew what had happened in South Sudan, and Joe’s unease made her worry that they were being similarly set up now. But he didn’t say anything beyond that, simply continued leading the way to the truck, where they were supposed to make their pickup. 

The following seconds became a blur. One moment, Nile was opening the back of the truck while Joe covered her. The next, Joe was gasping, “Quynh?” The name had barely left his lips when he was suddenly flung to the ground, a grotesque hole in his torso, a shotgun blast echoing in the air.

“JOE!” The scream ripped out of Nile just as she heard “YUSUF!” roar through her earpiece, followed by the clatter of metal on concrete, and then...nothing. Nicky would be there as quickly as the distance allowed, but until then, Nile felt scared and alone, caught between watching a family member die in front of her and the person who had killed him. 

“Where’s Andromache?” the woman demanded, turning her gun on Nile before she could run to Joe’s side. “Why isn’t she here?” 

Nile heard a gasp in her earpiece, and her stomach dropped. “Andy, stand down.” 

“Andy?” the woman repeated, disdain lining her smirk. “Is that what she goes by now? Tell her to come here, we have some lost time to make up for.” 

“Nile-” 

“Andy, don’t come!” she hissed into her earpiece, before she finally addressed the woman. “Are you Quynh?” 

“My reputation precedes me.” 

“I dunno what you know, but Andy...Andromache’s mortal.” 

“...What?” Quynh finally looked taken off guard, her shotgun’s aim dropping slightly as the news set in. “That cannot be.” 

“It’s true.” 

_Fucking of course._ Nile glanced over her shoulder at the ancient Grecian just long enough to adjust her position and stand in front of her. She was distantly aware of Nicky running past them to Joe, but that just meant she had to continue monitoring Quynh and their mortal leader by herself. “Andy, I told you to stand down.” 

“Not now, Nile.” 

The awe in that exhausted voice made Nile turn to look at Andy again. What she saw was a blue gaze swimming with tears of disbelief and relief, lips parted on a silent gasp, cheeks rosy in a way that made her look like a girl several thousand years her junior. “It’s you.” 

“It’s me,” Quynh confirmed. All the anger and authority that had lined her face was gone, replaced by a solemnity that made Nile’s heart ache just to witness. “I’m back.”

“Quynh…” Andy stepped towards her, moving around Nile as if she wasn’t there at all, hands coming up to cradle a face she hadn’t seen in centuries. But then she froze, hands bent around empty air, and Nile’s heart dropped at the sight of Quynh’s shotgun barrel gently pressed into Andy’s stomach. Nile couldn’t see Andy’s face, couldn’t see if disappointment or grief or shock was etched across it. But then she spoke, and her voice carried none of those emotions. Only guilt. “...Go ahead.” 

“If what she said is true...it would kill you.” 

“It’s what I deserve, for not finding you.” 

“500 years, Andromache.” 

“I know.” 

“You don’t know _anything_ ,” Quynh snarled. “You were my only hope, Andromache. I could believe that Yusuf and Nicolo would abandon me, but not you. For 400 years, I prayed for you. Longed for you. Believed in you. And for what?” The shotgun barrel pressed harder into Andy’s stomach, but she didn’t make a noise, didn’t move an inch. “You don’t know the pain. You don’t know what it’s like, to have water fill your lungs instead of air for 500 years. You haven’t felt your bloody knuckles and knees heal with saltwater burrowing under your skin. You don’t know what it’s like, to realize your heart will never come back to you, because she’s abandoned you.” 

Tears were silently streaming down Andy’s face, but Nile knew it wasn’t from the pain of the shotgun. “I’m so sorry...Quynh, I’m so sorry. I should never have stopped looking. I can never take that back. I can never feel your pain. But Quynh...I’ve never forgotten you. Please believe that. I would do anything to have those 500 years with you...and I will do anything to help you now. If that means dying at your hand, then so be it.” 

Quynh was silent, her face impassive, as though she didn’t also have tears flowing down her cheeks. Her hands tightened around her shotgun...before she threw it aside to pull Andy to her, bringing their mouths together in a clumsy, messy, desperate kiss. The sudden kiss made Andy grunt, but she was quick to catch up, hands clutching at Quynh and pressing her close. 

Nile took the moment to let her gaze shift from one couple to another. Nicky was bent over Joe’s form, hands clutching at the bloody edges of his shirt that was shredded by the shotgun blast, lips moving around silent prayers. And then, suddenly, Joe jerked back to life with a pained groan. His head would’ve collided with Nicky’s had the latter not shot upright in relief, though it hardly mattered when their lips were pressed together in the next instant. 

A sharp kind of loneliness pressed into Nile as she stood there, solitary, and for a horrible moment, she understood Booker’s drunken anguish. But then Joe pulled away from the kiss to search for her eyes, panic and worry lining those brown depths, only to be replaced with relief when their gazes met. She was loved, she couldn’t let herself forget that. 

Nicky held a hand out to her with a small smile, and she took the silent invitation to kneel next to Joe. His eyes were still cloudy with the pain of his torso stitching itself back together to cover his guts, but he managed to grunt, “You ok?” 

“I’m ok. Don’t worry about me. Just stay down and focus on healing.”

When Nile looked back at the reunited couple, their kiss had ended, and their foreheads were now pressed together. She could just barely make out the words muttered between them. 

“-there’s a bench-”

“-to talk-”

“Midnight.” 

“-be there.” 

Andy finally stepped back from Quynh, and the missing woman was gone, disappearing past some of the shipping crates before Nile could even get back to her feet. “Andy?” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“No, just...are you ok?” 

The Scythian finally turned to her, and she was shaken to see those blue eyes bloodshot and rimmed with red. And yet, when she spoke, it was with a small smile that was filled with relief and hope. “I...I think I will be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH BOY this is my first time writing Quynh at all, much less the wives interacting with each other. I desperately hope I've done them some justice, and I desperately hope I get better and more comfortable with writing them as I work through the prompts. 
> 
> Find me on Tumblr @pearlsephoni
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own The Old Guard, including any of the characters or world-building. Please do not copy and paste any of this work on other websites, nor plagiarize any part of it. Thank you.


	2. Day 2: Mornings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A rare morning of peace normally meant a morning of extra sleep. But sleep can wait, when there's a beautiful sunrise to watch, and a radiant woman at Andromache's side.

“Andromache.” 

The whisper was warm against her ear, and she wasn’t sure if it was the whisper or the long, dark strands of hair brushing her bare shoulder that made a shiver run through her. Her eyes opened just long enough to register the few stars that still glittered in grey, early morning sky. “No,” she grumbled, squeezing her eyes shut again. “It’s too early.” 

“Andromache.” 

“There’s still stars in the sky, it can’t be morning if there’s stars in the sky.” 

“I thought we came here to see the famed sunrise.” 

“That was before you kept me up so late.” 

“You didn’t have any complaints last night.” 

Her eyes blearily blinked open to see Quynh’s coy smile and glittering dark eyes. After centuries together, Andromache was still certain that those eyes could put the stars to shame. “You have a talent for turning me into a fool.” 

“That can’t be why. I am not always using my talents.” Those teasing words were quickly followed by a surprised cry, as Andromache grabbed her arm and pulled her down to her side. 

“I may be a fool, but you’re the one who fell in love with a fool,” Andromache playfully growled into Quynh’s neck. “Now let me sleep.” 

She didn’t get to sleep. Despite her best attempts at resistance, Quynh managed to pull her to her feet and drag her to the cliffside just in time for them to glimpse the first rays peeking over the horizon. “See?” Quynh murmured as the golden light bathed her skin. “Isn’t this worth waking up early?” 

She looked as though her skin were carved from gold, and her eyes and hair molded from the deepest, most glittering onyx. And her smile...her smile put even the breathtaking sunrise in front of them to shame. This was a side to her that still made Andromache’s heart clench after a millennium together, so different from the sharp snarls and blood-splattered grace of her pit viper in battle. “My love,” Andromache whispered, fingers seeking her beloved’s almost automatically, “I would find a way to catch the sun for you, if it meant seeing you smile like this.” 

Andromache wasn’t exactly a wordsmith, but that just made her relish even more the moments when her surprising eloquence could render Quynh speechless. A warm pink spread across those golden cheeks, and that blinding smile turned shy. “Well...for now, I’m just happy to watch the sunrise with you.” 

“Then let’s watch the sunrise.” Andromache plopped down to the ground and used their entwined fingers to tug Quynh down with her, making her settle between her parted knees, back against chest, with a sense of easy routine. In the early morning light, her dark brown hair was indistinguishable from Quynh’s raven strands, as she nestled her chin against her strong shoulder. She knew Quynh could feel her heartbeat slow against her shoulder blades, just as Andromache could feel Quynh’s pulse calm at her wrist under her fingertips. 

Their bodies didn’t lie - no matter how many years passed, the act of watching the sunrise could always ground them in a way few other things could. The world changed around them, but the sunrise would remain the same. And when they were so far away from other signs of humanity, it was easy to forget the weight of the time that had passed. 

It was a thought that had passed through Andromache’s mind before, but now it lingered, letting her imagine a life where this isolation, this calm, could make up their whole day. “Quynh?”

“Hm?” Her voice was sleepy, and Andromache couldn’t help smiling at the realization that she had almost fallen asleep. 

“What if...what if we just lived like this?” 

“Like what?” 

“Just...alone, like this. No more fighting. No more getting tangled in the world’s conflicts. We could just...have a farm. Some animals. We could raise them through their generations. Weave our own clothing from sheep’s wool. Grow our own crops and food. We wouldn’t have to hide from anyone. We could just...live in peace.” 

Quynh had gone very still, and a moment of silence passed before she finally replied, very quietly, “Is that what you want?” 

“Yes. Maybe. I’m not sure,” Andromache sighed into Quynh’s neck, their intermingled hair fluttering with her breath. “I’m just...so tired.” 

“Oh, my heart.” Quynh carefully shifted until they were gazing into each other’s eyes, her hand coming up to cup Andromache’s cheek with a rare gentleness. “I know you are. But you are also fierce, and righteous, and the bravest warrior I know. That life would be peaceful, but it would end the moment you heard about any injustice happening miles away from us.” 

“Only because you would leave to fight it, too.” 

“I would. But you would fight whether or not I was there.” 

There was a strange solemnity in Quynh’s smile as she spoke, and it made Andromache frown in concern. “That doesn’t matter, because we’ll always fight next to each other. That won’t change.” 

“You and me?” 

“Until the end.” 

The solemnity melted away into the radiance that had shone from her smile at the sunrise’s first rays, and Andromache was leaning in to kiss her before she even realized she was moving. Maybe Quynh was right. Maybe they would never be suited for a quiet, isolated life. But Andromache didn’t mind, not really...just as long as the life she lived was a life shared with her heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not edited at ALL, I am SO sorry for any weird mistakes or inconsistencies in this. 
> 
> My initial idea for this prompt was going to be a lot smuttier (lol), but man...I got to thinking about the inherent romanticism of watching the sunrise with a loved one, and about the happiness of the immortal wives' earlier days with each other, and I couldn't resist the chance to write them just...being happy, before the trauma of losing each other for 500 years. Hence [waves vaguely] this. I hope you can still enjoy! ^^;
> 
> Find me on Tumblr @pearlsephoni
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own The Old Guard, including any of the characters or world-building. Please do not copy and paste any of this work on other websites, nor plagiarize any part of it. Thank you.


	3. Day 3: AUs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No mortal has ever gotten out of the Underworld, but with a legendary warrior as her mentor, Nile Freeman might be the first. 
> 
> (Basically the story of the Hades game, but with Nile as Zagreus, Andy as Achilles, Quynh as Patroclus, Joe as Orpheus, and Nicolo as Eurydice.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small disclaimer: Quynh doesn't actually show up in this one, but please trust that the Immortal Wives are very present here!

“You’re back.” 

Nile looked exhausted as she trudged towards Andromache from the pool of blood at the end of the hall. It had been like this for each of her attempts to reach the surface: she got caught and knocked out by one of the guardian shades lurking through each realm of the underworld, and sent back to the house of Hades in the depths of Tartarus, where new arrivals filed through and received their realm assignments. But instead of coming face to face with the Lord of the Underworld himself, Nile would slip away from the main queue and instead go to Andromache, who stood guard by one of the few side passageways out of the house. 

Each time Nile returned, she looked more battered and exhausted, and Andromache wondered if this would be the breaking point for the young woman. But instead, her resolve seemed bolstered, especially if she’d caught a glimpse of her father. Because he was who this was all for - he had been killed when Nile was a young girl, and when it was her turn to come to the underworld, she decided her family had had enough loss. She was determined to go back, bring her father with her, and let her parents grow old together the way they deserved. 

So yes, Nile looked exhausted, but as she approached, Andromache could see the resolve still dwelling beneath each movement. Andromache’s labrys, loaned to the younger woman, glittered beneath the coating of ethereal shades’ blood that covered it, almost as though it were responding to being near its normal wielder once again. Nile’s arm shook as she held it out to Andromache. “Thanks for letting me use it.” 

“Word amongst the shades is that you made it up to the Temple of Styx,” Andromache said with a proud smile, relishing the familiar weight of her axe back in her hand. “You’ve almost made it.” 

“Yeah, almost...but then I have to figure out how to get my dad out with me.” 

“He’s a warrior, just like you. You two will make it out, I know it.” 

Nile’s smile was grateful, though exhausted. “Thanks, Andy.” 

“Of course, kid. Are you sure you won’t need my labrys again? Did Yusuf give you his scimitar?” The court artist had been turned into an unwilling warrior when he attempted to delve into the underworld prematurely, desperate to bring his beloved back to the surface. For all his skill with a brush, it was useless against the shades that stood in his way to the king of the dead, and he ended up becoming just as skilled with a scimitar in his journey. 

His journey ended in failure, but not because he lacked on the battlefield. He simply couldn’t wait much longer to finally look into those blue eyes again. Ages had since past, and he was now a proper citizen of the underworld. But even though he was reunited with Nicolo, he still kept his favored weapon on hand, though he hoped to never need it again. 

“Nah, I...I actually got to borrow someone else’s weapon.” Nile seemed reluctant to reveal her new loan, and Andromache understood why as soon as she laid eyes on it. The deep, glimmering wood of Quynh’s bow was unmistakable, as were the arrows in the quiver on Nile’s back. 

“You...you found Quynh?” 

“I ran into her, in Elysium,” Nile murmured. Andromache didn’t see the concern in her eyes, her own focus fixed solely on the bow. “She recognized your labrys, said she knew you.” 

“Is that what she said?” 

“Well, that, and...and that she loves you. That you loved each other.” 

Those were the words that made Andromache’s eyes jerk from the bow to Nile’s concerned gaze. “She loves me?” 

“That’s what she said. Andy...are you ok?” 

She hadn’t realized her eyes were welling up until she noticed the dampness on her face. But she couldn’t bring herself to feel embarrassed to be crying in front of her protegee. Relief and joy were the only emotions pumping through her. “I thought she hated me.” 

“Why would she hate you?” 

“Oh, Nile...that is a story for a different time.” She pressed the bow back into Nile’s hands with a smile that she hoped was encouraging. “Maybe I’ll tell you if you end up back here. But for now...give ‘em hell, kid. Make Quynh proud.” 

“What about you?” 

“I’m already proud of you. Always have been, always will be.” 

Nile turned away with another grateful smile, but only made it a few steps away before turning back to her mentor. “Andy...Andromache, I dunno why Quynh would hate you, but whatever it is...she forgives you. Or at least, she loves you more than she hates whatever happened.” 

Guilt joined the clash of emotions running through Andromache - here was this young woman, already so focused on accomplishing the impossible and returning herself and her father to her grieving family, yet she still had it in her heart to worry about her old mentor. “Even if she forgives me, I’m not sure I forgive myself...but thank you, Nile. You have a good heart. Your family is lucky to have you.” 

“I hope so...I hope I can get back to them.” 

“You won’t know unless you try again,” Andromache reminded her. “Go on, then, don’t worry about my old woman problems.” 

Nile rolled her eyes with a scoff, but Andromache didn’t miss the grin on her lips as she turned away again. The young warrior disappeared through the archway behind Andromache, and it wasn’t long before her company was replaced by Nicolo’s. He was sliding his longsword back into its sheath, apparently joining her from the house's armory. “She’s off again?” 

“Yes...even if she makes it, she’ll have to return for her father and do it all over again.” 

“She’s strong. You’ve taught her well.” Nicolo’s eyes were kind in their appraisal of her. “You make a better teacher than Yusuf thought you would.” 

“Teaching is nothing after commanding armies,” Andromache laughed. “Besides, I didn’t teach her that strength. That was in her all along.” 

“She’ll need it.” 

“Don’t we all, at some point?” Her words were wry, but her grin was playful as Nicolo huffed out a laugh. “But she’ll be alright. She has to be, for her family, and so she will be.” 

“If she succeeds, she’ll be a hero.” 

“Yes...but that doesn’t matter to her. She just wants her family to be happy.” 

“A happy hero.” 

“The first of her kind.” Memories rose unbidden to the front of her mind, memories of hands pressed together and promises whispered. _“I’ll be the first. Swear it to me.” “Why me?” “Because it will be because of you.”_ “She deserves it, Nicolo. She deserves to be the first.” 

“She will be, with you to guide her.” 

“...I hope so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus points to whoever notices the lines I borrowed from Song of Achilles hehe. 
> 
> Oh my god, I've never felt worse about something I've written. This feels incoherent, and the ending feels abrupt and messy, and I so wish I could have gotten this proofread by some friends, and I even asked Riley if she'd be willing to briefly beta this (she's my only friend who's watched TOG and played some of Hades). But I procrastinated until the second week of TOG Femslash Fortnight to post on schedule, and of course it coincided with major paper revisions and an exam in my classes, so...this is as good as it's gonna get whilst being on time. Sorry, gang. Hope y'all still enjoy? 
> 
> Anyway, Hades has completely consumed my life, and I recently began reading Song of Achilles, and if you thought I was gonna be submerged in the story of Achilles and Patroclus without indulgently inserting some immortal gays, you have greatly overestimated my self-control. 
> 
> Find me on Tumblr @pearlsephoni
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own The Old Guard, including any of the characters or world-building. Please do not copy and paste any of this work on other websites, nor plagiarize any part of it. Thank you.


	4. Day 4: Poem/Song as Inspiration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andy has waited 500 years for this reunion, but how can 500 years of grief fit between two people? 
> 
> A continuation of sorts of my Day 1 entry, my take on the conversation between Andy and Quynh/Noriko in the comics.

_I can’t cross the river of memories and go back  
To you, a moment, to me, it’s forever, left as a scar  
Even if we’re always circling in the same orbit  
You’re always looking somewhere else._  
- _My Tragedy_ , by Taeyeon

It was a quiet night, or at least, as quiet as a night in Amsterdam could get. It had been a while since Andy’s last visit to the city, but she still remembered the quietest corners, perfect for private late night conversations.

500 years was both too much and not enough time to prepare her for this. The feeling of loneliness, of a space forever empty, was gone, but in its place, the guilt that had haunted her for centuries only grew stronger. There were no words that felt adequate for the love of her life, sitting silently next to her on this random bench in this random city. But she had some that were as good as anything she could think of. “I missed you.” 

“Did you?” The words didn’t hold any skepticism or anger, just a genuine curiosity, as if they were discussing a weekend trip. But Andy recognized the knowing glint in her beloved’s dark eyes, the familiar expression taking her breath away after so long without it. 

“Of course. And...I’m sorry. Christ, Quynh, I’m so, so sorry.”

“What for?” 

“You know why.” 

“I do. But I wanted to make sure you did.” Quynh’s sweet smile didn’t the hurt and anger that were beginning to line her eyes, unwilling to be hidden for much longer. “500 years is a long time, my love. A lot can be forgotten in that time.”

“But not you. Never you.”

Quynh was silent, her smile unwavering as her gaze drifted from Andy to the canal in front of them. She let the silence hang, the sound of her voice being replaced by the soft rumble of distant crowds and chirping crickets. When she finally spoke again, her voice was soft, weaving itself between the noise. “My anger has been a strange thing, since escaping the iron coffin.” She paused, but Andy remained quiet, both because she didn’t know what to say, and because she remembered, like an old instinct, the way Quynh would pause to find the right words. “There is so much of it left with nowhere to go. For 500 years, I could feel the hope drain from me like the blood from my knuckles. For 500 years, there was nothing to replace that but hatred and bitterness at the people who threw me down there and the people who left me down there.

“I know there is only so much you could have done. The seas are vast and impossibly deep. There was no way to scan their depths until the past few years. But 500 years without your heart still feels like abandonment, Andromache. And no matter the reason why, that will always hurt in a way that even drowning cannot compare to. If your youngest didn’t tell me you are mortal, I would have shot you as soon as I laid eyes on you, just to make you feel a fraction of the pain that still aches in me.” 

She finally looked back at Andromache, who took this as unspoken permission to speak. “I would have let you. It’s what I deserve.” 

“What good would that have done anyone, hm?” 

“It would have helped you, just for a moment.” 

“And then you would be gone forever. Again I ask, what good would that do anyone?” 

“It’ll happen eventually.” 

“But not at my hand. You are going to go down fighting, like you always have.” 

“What about you?” 

“What about me?” 

“Will you be fighting next to me?” 

Quynh’s smile was tinged with pity, a sight Andy had never seen directed at her. “Oh, my love...not for a while yet. If I stand next to you with a gun, I can’t promise I won’t turn it on you. It’s a dream that haunted me for many years, one I intended on bringing to life tonight. It will be a while before the urge finally passes me.” 

The words sent a chill through her. “You...you really hate me?” 

“Anger does not mean I hate you. My anger comes from love. It comes from what felt like a betrayal of that love.” For the first time that night, Quynh reached out to Andy, letting her fingers brush those grown-out bangs behind her ear, before her hand rested against a pale cheek. When Andy let herself look into those brown eyes, she was shaken to see them brimming with tears. “Andromache...you will always be the one I love most in this world. But those centuries of pain and loneliness won’t just disappear with your immortality. You must understand, everything in me is screaming to be with you for your last years. Perhaps we could begin to make up for that lost time. But I still need time.” 

“Quynh-” 

“I came here so that I could see you in person, not simply in my dreams. I found you once, I will do it again.” 

“What if I’m gone by then?” 

“Have some faith in yourself, Andromache.”

When Quynh smiled this time, Andy couldn’t help mirroring it. This one wasn’t full of anger or regret or disappointment. This time it was tinged with love, and even a little trust - merely a shadow of the smile that had been lingering in her memories for half a millenium, but it was still there, and the way it looked a little foreign on Quynh’s lips told her that she was still the only person on earth who had seen that smile. That knowledge made Andy catch Quynh’s fingers before the missing woman could leave, tugging her back in front of her. “Before you go...could we…”

She asked with all the bravado of a child asking for an extra sweet, but she would have gladly given up her dignity twice over for the way her hesitance made Quynh’s smile broaden. “How do they say it…‘one for the road’?” 

“Yeah...one for the road.” Andy’s lips had just curved to match that smile before they were covered by Quynh’s. She could taste the salt of tears and the seas, but just beneath that, there was still that familiar warmth and sweetness that she had yearned for. It should’ve been impossible for Quynh to feel and taste and smell the same as she had all those centuries ago, and maybe it was, maybe Andromache’s mind was playing tricks on her. But in that moment, Andy had never felt so immediately comforted, so immediately at home as she did in Quynh’s arms. 

And then, with a whispered “Take care, my heart,” she was gone, a streak of red in the Amsterdam moonlight by the time Andy let her eyes flutter open. She expected to feel grief well up inside her once more, choke her the way it had when she saw Quynh get stuffed into the iron coffin. Yet the grief was nowhere to be found, replaced with a strange sense of hope. After all these years, she was still Quynh’s heart, just as Quynh was hers. Perhaps, finally, she would have a chance to truly earn that title once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taeyeon truly never misses with her music. As soon as I heard this song, I knew I'd be using it for this couple. Here are the full translated lyrics, along with the song itself: https://colorcodedlyrics.com/2020/01/taeyeon-taeyeon-my-tragedy-wolsig 
> 
> My next few entries are gonna be tardy, because oh boy, this exam and lab report are kicking my ASS haha :') i hate school so much. Anyway, once again, this is very minimally edited, but I hope you can enjoy this nonetheless!
> 
> Find me on Tumblr @pearlsephoni
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own The Old Guard, including any of the characters or world-building. Please do not copy and paste any of this work on other websites, nor plagiarize any part of it. Thank you.


End file.
